A Dark Phoenix
by Clever Fox Child
Summary: Thirty years ago, twins were born. Heirs to Voldemort's Dark Empire. But he only needs one.


**A Dark Phoenix**

"_Twins_," spat the skeletal-looking man, a lipless mouth full of acid. He looked down at the cradle scornfully through red eyes with snake-like slitted pupils. Both infants within the crib, tangled up in the red-velvet blankets, gurgled happily, not understanding their father's surliness. Lord Voldemort sent a venomous look at the slender woman that stood defiantly on the other side of the crib, watching her master through very cold blue eyes. It was only they alone in the sparsely furnished room. "We asked for _one_ heir."

"Well now we have a backup, don't we?"

A corner of the Dark Lord's lipless mouth quirked. "This is true," he acknowledged. "But then, raising two young lords would be difficult—"

"It should be fun," replied the woman, slipping an idle hand into the cradle. It was immediately seized by two sets of tiny fists. "I've already named them. The one nearest you is Romulus. Careful," she added, seeing Voldemort lift a white hand to set inside the crib, "—he bites. And this sweet young man," she continued in a crooning tone, stroking the soft mousy hair of the boy-infant nearest herself, "is Remus. He's quite good-tempered."

Voldemort sent his mate a sneering glance. "Such queer names for twins," he couldn't help commenting. "Do you expect them to fight to the death over a city?"

"It was that, or expect them to fight over a woman by naming them Caine and Abel. Besides, I like how it rolls off the tongue—Romulus," she purred to her two babies. "Remus. It makes sense; Romulus has already tried strangling his brother… twice."

"And how did the other react?"

Meredith Vitrone shrugged uncaringly. "Does it matter? They're both alive and well." When the Dark Lord refused to remove his stare, she sighed and concluded shortly, "I supposed Remus might have used some magic to get out of it."

"Has the other showed signs of magic?"

"You could call them by their names, you know, dearest."

"All right then," sighed the Dark Lord patiently. "Has _Romulus_showed signs of power?"

His mate hesitated, which was answer enough. "Not yet," she murmured, and then looked up at Voldemort to meet his scarlet gaze. "But that isn't to say he doesn't have any. They're _twins_—twins hold special power in the magical world. Everyone knows that. Perhaps Romulus's magic is late in revealing itself, but it's there. It _must_ be." A tad desperately, Meredith went on, "We can't kill him, Master. Killing the twin of a wizard could cause great disquiet in either world—it throws off the balance of nature, some would say. And—and I love them, milord. They are _our_ sons, your heirs. I couldn't bare it to have one without the other, not when I've gotten to know them so well these past two months."

"Then you won't bare it," muttered the Dark Lord, and lifted his wand.

"Please, no, Lord Voldemort!"

A flash of green light later, the woman lay cooling to the touch on the bear-rug beneath the cradle. Voldemort looked down into the crib, which his other white and spider-like hand still rested on the crest of, looked down into the very blue eyes of either his sons. They were a handsome pair, he could admit—the spitting image of himself when he was just an infant boy. But he was hardly human any longer. Reaching into the cradle, he touched the head of the boy nearest him.

"Romulus, is it?" he murmured. The baby gurgled incoherently at him. "My son the Squib… Well, we just can't have that."

He raised his wand once again.

A shock of power ripped through him, leaving the Dark Lord momentarily breathless. When next he looked down into the crib, he found the one called Remus curled up and fast asleep on the far side of the crib. Yet Romulus was wide awake, looking up at his father with a cold glint to his baby blue eyes. A cold glint, a hint of evil.

The Dark Lord smiled coldly, and sent a scornful glance at the soulless creature lying dead on the bear-skin rug.

"Perhaps you were right, Meredith," he whispered. "Perhaps I did speak too soon. Forgive me, won't you?"

And then Voldemort turned on his heel and swept from the room, the folds of his black silken cloak billowing in his wake. Bella could look after his heirs from now on. And from the ashes of his dead mate, an heir to the Dark Lord's empire would rise, like a dark phoenix whose black flames swallowed up the whole wide world.

Romulus gurgled happily in his crib, tangled up in the velvet coverlets. His brother, Remus, merely turned over in slumber and snored lightly.

Neither was aware of the horrors that awaited them when they grew up.

-

**Clever Fox Child:** Just a one-shot, I guess! I haven't thought of a way to lengthen it into a whole story yet. I apologize to those that haven't heard from me in a while! But look, I'm not dead, nor have I fallen off the face of the earth! I just went through a long break-period. Hopefully I and my stories will be back up and running soon, though. Thanks for sticking around! And for new fans, hello! How did I do?


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